
There were some things in life-commuter-friendly transvestite hookers-that could only be found in New York. She smiled as she passed a red Prius with a surfboard sticking out the rear window whose twenty-something blond driver was talking on her cell, applying lip gloss, and allegedly keeping an eye on the road all at the same time. It was officially her home, but a lot could be said for La La Land, despite the squalor of Sawtelle Boulevard. The Times obit said he died from a heart attack, but the whole family knows it was actually … Well, let's just say he had a nasty habit of picking up boy-girls near the Holland Tunnel."ĭiseased cross-dressing prostitutes seemed light years away from Anna's current life. "The new research wing will be named for Uncle Georgie, who just left them a mint. "What are they going to do, throw me out?" Cyn asked rhetorically. The neighborhood instantly got seedier-fancy buildings were replaced by low-priced Mexican restaurants, tire dealers, and the occasional strip club advertised by a dilapidated neon sign. She turned left on Sawtelle, as Sam's directions had indicated. "Anyway, what are you doing talking to me? You're in a library." Cyn had just informed Anna that she was stuck in the NYU library researching a final paper on pop culture references to the French Revolution and had also just admitted that a tiny part of her was actually enjoying working on it.

Anna had just informed Cyn that she was driving to a pregraduation party aboard her friend Samantha Sharpe's yacht. Her pearl-gray Lexus powered down Wilshire Boulevard the Santa Monica mountains stood sentry to the north. "Jealousy is oozing through my phone, Cyn," Anna teased, wriggling the discreet earpiece from her Motorola E815's headset to a more comfortable position. Cyn was still her best friend-one who could let fly with a friendly insult the way other uptown girls tossed off skimpy two-ply cashmere. But whether there were three thousand miles or three blocks between them, it didn't matter. Cynthia Baltres might be living in the intellectual mecca known as New York City, and Anna might now be living in the anti-intellectual sun-dappled overindulgent splendor of Beverly Hills. "Anna Percy, you are a traitor to all that is good and holy. The unknown was always so attractive to me … and still is.īlack Sweatshirt with a Bad Chanel Knock-off Scarf

Hope and curiosity about the future seemed better than guarantees.


To Lynn Weingarten and Cindy Eagan, without whom I'd have much less time to shop. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.īe sure to read all the novels in the New York Times bestsellingĪnd keep your eye out for the eighth novel, coming July 2007.īe sure to read all the novels in the #1 New York Times bestselling GOSSIP GIRL seriesĪnd keep you eye out for the eleventh novel, coming May 2007. The characters and events in this book are fictitious.
